Keelie shifted uncomfortably on one of the hard plastic lawn chairs that furnished Finch’s low-key office. Vangar and Finch were watching Sally as she hummed over her tarot cards, supposedly to tap into the energy field around the faire.
When Keelie had burst into the Admin building fifteen minutes earlier, she’d shared with Finch some of the conversations she’d overhead on her way through the faire. It made smoke billow out of the dragon’s ears-she wasn’t happy to learn that a lot of the faire folk were scared and unhappy not only because of the spontaneous nature of the fires, but also because of the way they’d been handled. There was no natural cause of the fires, yet also no arson investigation. The rumors that Vangar was responsible for the Heartwood fire were now circulating widely, and there was talk that the whole faire was cursed. The faire folk didn’t realize how close to the truth this was, Keelie thought grimly. The faire was cursed-with goblins, hiding Under-the-Hill.
As everyone remained hushed to allow Sally to concentrate on the cards, Keelie examined the fantasy-book-cover posters of dragons that decorated the walls. She recognized many of the artists, some of whom had booths and shops at the faire. One picture, of a red dragon with golden scales, looked suspiciously like Ermentrude.
Sally stopped humming and shuffled the cards. “I need a break-too many powerful beings in this room,” she muttered.
“I can’t believe people said those things about me.” Vangar’s bronze eyes glinted with sadness. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his chair, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
Keelie felt sorry for him. Since she’d arrived, she hadn’t heard anyone say anything nice about Vangar, and if he was telling the truth, he’d done nothing to deserve it.
“While Sally ponders the card, what else can you tell me?” Finch glared at Keelie from across her desk. The pad in front of her was full of names.
“That’s it.” Feeling like a snitch, Keelie leaned back in her chair.
“So, Lavender and Shimmerlight think I’m doing a piss-poor job of handling the faire? Stupid fairies with their little glitter wings and tulle skirts, skipping around all happy.” Finch broke her pencil in two. Today, her red hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she was dressed in a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and serious steel-toed work boots with flames stitched on the sides. They looked like they could kick some fairy butt.
Knot hopped through the open office window, dragging a bedraggled puppet in his mouth. He jumped into Vangar’s lap.
“What do you have there, buddy?” Vangar removed the weird little puppet from Knot’s mouth. The cat swatted at it. It looked flat and lifeless without Hob to animate it. The puppet’s red and gold outfit was muddy and smelled smoky. Strange. Must be because the mask store was next to Heartwood.
“Why did you take Hob’s puppet, you bad kitty?” Keelie asked.
“You’re right, it’s Hob’s poppet,” Sally said.
“You mean puppet,” Keelie corrected her. “He calls it Toshi.”
“No, a poppet. They’re used to enchant people, to make them do their will,” Sally explained. “The way people act around here, I’m thinking he’s got them enchanted. It’s dark stuff. Most practitioners won’t touch it.” She waved her hands, as if wafting away the bad vibes.
Whatever it was, the puppet looked the worse for wear, thanks to Knot. Its dark beady eyes still shone with a sinister gleam.
“Poppets can be very powerful,” Sally said. “A lot of practitioners will find a spell in a grimoire and shape it to their purpose.”
“What do you want me to do with it?” Vangar asked, picking it up gingerly.
If Keelie had had the Compendium, she might have been able to find a spell to take care of the poppet.
“I’ll get rid of it.” Sally reached for Toshi, touching its hat. The bell in Keelie’s pocket rang as if in recognition. Keelie put her hand over the bell to quiet it as Sally took the puppet outside. Finch, Vangar, and Keelie followed her to the door and watched as Sally walked to the privies on the other side of the front gate. The privies were the perfect place for the horrible little poppet.
“Where are you, sweeting?” a sad and plaintive voice shouted. Keelie turned in the direction of the heart-wrenching plea. Immediately she stepped back into the safety of the office; Hob was wobbling down King’s Way as if he’d had too many meads down at the Poacher’s Inn. “Where are you?” he shouted outside the Magic Maze. “I need you. Sweetness, come back. Toshi. I need my Toshi.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Keelie asked.
“He’s acting weirder than usual.” Vangar arched an eyebrow. “He was in his mask shop screeching about something earlier. I’d say he’s been hanging out with his masks too long. All those empty eye sockets watching him all day long probably pushed him over the edge.”
Keelie could totally see that.
“Strange… ” Finch mused. “He has several dozen Toshi puppets in his store, but he’s going nuts looking for this one? Too late now, unless he goes searching in the privies.” She wrinkled her nose. “Never mind. Let’s get back to the reading.”
Keelie glimpsed several large books stacked in a corner behind Finch’s desk. Some of the books shimmered; but when she looked again, nothing. She wondered if these were magic books and her To See Truly abilities were kicking in.
Sally, who had remained outside, joined them and began shuffling cards. “Something is definitely wrong with Hob,” she said. “I saw him dart between the Magic Maze and the candle shop, and then he bolted down the lane when Tarl asked him if he needed any help.” She shook her head. “Enough distractions. Let’s concentrate on the cards.”
For a moment, the only sound was the ticking of the dragon clock hanging behind Finch, its pendulum tail swinging back and forth, ticking with each movement. The Timekeeper would’ve liked this clock, Keelie thought. Maybe Finch bought it at the Quicksilver Faire, or perhaps it was a present from Ermentrude.
Knot hopped onto the edge of Finch’s desk, closed his eyes, and purred like a contented feline Porsche.
Sally studied her cards, her gaze contemplative. “I have seen great danger. The cards say that something moves this way, and we must be prepared.”
“It’s goblins,” Keelie said. She’d seen them-she didn’t need a tarot card to tell her to be prepared.
“We know it’s goblins.” Finch motioned toward the cards. “What do they say?”
Sally spread more cards out on the desk. She didn’t blink at the mention of goblins, so Keelie figured she’d been around magic folk for a while.
The back of this tarot deck was very pretty, gold trim around a black and white checkerboard design. Sally deftly swept the cards into a deck with one smooth move. “Let’s try something new, to use all the energy in the room. Tap them.”
Finch did.
Vangar snorted, unimpressed.
“Each of you will draw a card,” Sally said as she held out the deck. “First, Finch.”
Finch pulled from the top.
Sally walked over to Vangar, who rolled his eyes. “Do I have to?” He cut a questioning glance over to Finch.
Her red brows rose to her hairline. “We talked about this.”
Keelie knew who wore the pants in this relationship. She smiled.
Vangar sighed. He pulled a card from the middle of the deck.
Sally strolled over to Keelie. “Now you.”
Keelie didn’t know why she was nervous. She’d drawn a tarot card before, but something felt different in the room, as if there was a layer of magic filtering through the doorway and settling around Sally. Keelie removed a card from the bottom.
Sally tapped the deck again. “Reveal your cards, at the same time, on the desk.”
Keelie leaned forward, as did Vangar and Finch. They laid their cards out at the same time. Finch had a red dragon-the seven of swords. Vangar’s was the King of Wands, a big gold dragon with glistening scales that would have made Shimmerlight jealous with its sparkles.
And when Keelie flipped her card over… the Fool, here pictured as a jester whose stare glittered at her through a mask’s eyeholes. Great. This meant one thing: Peascod.
“Now what?” Finch barked.
“Now you each study your card. Together they have a larger meaning.”
The gold dragon on Vangar’s card winked at Keelie, and gave her a thumbs-up. Since when did tarot cards come with animation?
“Wait a minute-I saw that dragon wink at me,” Keelie said.
Vangar grinned. “Rascal.”
“This is a deck brought to me from the Quicksilver Faire,” Sally said. A faerie deck. Keelie knew it.
Sally pointed to the red dragon on Finch’s card; it flew above a castle as a ragtag army of seven peasants gathered outside the drawbridge. “You will have to be a leader, even to those who are afraid of you,” she told Finch. “But you will be able to rally the troops if you can cast aside the doubt within. You must find the inner strength to lead.”
Finch sighed. “This means that we’re going to have to teach the humans how to fight. Davey and I were talking about that last night.”
Sally arched an eyebrow. “Right. Vangar, do you have any idea what your card might mean?”
He stared at the gold dragon as if might talk to him. “No.”
Simple enough. Keelie liked that about Vangar. You got what you saw.
“It means you’ve led a lonely existence, by yourself, flying from one location to another.” Sally pointed to the sky on the card. “Do you see that star?”
“Yeah,” Vangar said.
Keelie leaned forward, and sure enough, there was a star on the horizon. That hadn’t been there before, but then again, this tarot deck was from the Quicksilver Faire.
“What does it mean?” Keelie asked. Although it was Vangar’s card, she wanted to know the answer.
Sally smiled knowingly at the big hulk. Vangar’s face flushed bright red.
“It means he made a wish upon the dragonstar, and it was heard by the higher powers.”
“Oh!”
Sally’s eyes twinkled. “That old saying still holds a lot of truth-be careful what you wish for.”
Finch leaned back in her chair and smiled a delightful yet evil grin. “Yes, be careful.” A hint of charcoal wafted through the small office.
Keelie didn’t know if this meant the two dragons’ pheromones were kicking in. She tapped her card. “I think this means I’m going to encounter Peascod.”
“It’s the Fool. We can read it that way, but also look for the deeper meanings in the symbolism of the images around the Fool. What do you see, Keelie?” Sally asked.
Keelie looked deeply into the card, her eyes stopping, transfixed, on the bag in the fool’s hand.
“He has a small velvet patchwork bag. It would make a great purse. Very boho chic.”
“It’s the bag of possibilities,” Sally said. “Whatever your decision is about Peascod, then it will be your choice, so gather the wisdom of your own experiences.”
“What if I make the wrong decision?” Keelie asked.
“There are many paths, but we can choose only one. Once chosen, there are still infinite possibilities available to us, branching forward.”
Keelie felt very confused.
“I think the cards are trying to tell us that there is danger other than the goblins,” Sally said.
“What? Other than goblins?” Keelie didn’t think anything could be more frightening than an angry goblin, other than Peascod, who was sort of an uber-goblin. Did it mean Niriel?
“I’ll be on the lookout for any dangers.” Vangar looked protectively at Finch. A mental image popped up in Keelie’s mind of two dragons kissing. Would they burn each other?
“Whatever happens, I don’t think we can depend on the elves,” Finch said. “Your father is thinking like an elf, and he will not make choices that include all the faire folk.” Seeing Keelie’s expression, she added, “Want another opinion? Talk to Davey. You’ve always listened to him.”
Keelie was reeling at the thought of excluding Dad from their plans, but the goblin situation wasn’t just about the elves. It was about all the faire folk.
“I trust you, but I don’t like keeping things from Dad.”
“It’s only for a couple of days. Vangar and I are trying to coordinate our defenses. We want to protect everyone in the faire, but with the people angry and suspicious of Vangar and me, it’s hard to protect them.”
“I guess you’re right. I just don’t feel like I’m an elf. I feel like I’m betraying them.” Keelie rubbed her pointed ear. “Is this all of me that’s elf? That, and I can hear trees speak?”
Finch steepled her fingers. “You’re more than an elf, Keelie. Just as I’m more than a dragon. It’s part of who we are, but it isn’t all that we are. We have to find a way to blend in with this world. With humans.”
Vangar nodded. “For centuries I’ve had to deal with the same thing. When I had a sheep farm out in the Old West, folks around used to say a dragon can’t keep sheep. Hey, I believe in free enterprise, and that’s why I’m here at the faire. Not only am I a dragon, but I like to think I’m a brilliant businessman.” Vangar straightened his shoulders.
Keelie could almost imagine him as a dragon deep within his lair, counting the money he’d made from his business deals. But herding sheep? That one boggled the mind.
Finch reached out and touched Keelie’s hand. “Trust me, Keelie.”
Keelie was moved. The faire director wasn’t known for her soft side. “I do.”
“I believe Hob may be the link to the goblins, and I’m hoping we can find the connection,” Finch continued. “While the goblins are gathering, we have to prepare ourselves, and one way of doing that is to keep intel on our enemy.” She leaned back.
“He’s always seemed like a human to me, although I did notice an odd shimmer around him once,” Keelie said. “And then there’s that puppet obsession, of course.” She had the brief thought that maybe Hob and the Wildewood Faire’s puppet shop owner, Lulu, should get together. It wouldn’t work, though-Lulu was in witch rehab somewhere.
“Go to work in the mask shop as planned, and if you’re right, then wonderful-Hob merely needs therapy. If I’m right, we have problems.”
Keelie straightened her shoulders. She would practice the To See Truly spell and use it on Hob.
She placed the jingle bell on Finch’s desk. “I want you to keep this.”
Before Finch could respond, the office door slammed open and Sir Davey stood before them, clothes torn and mustache quivering with agitation. “I’ve been robbed!”